Part 18 (1/2)

”Cooper's told me so much about you,” she says, her voice low, as if she doesn't want to disturb the sleeping beast.

I pause, look into her eyes. Her concern mirrors mine. I won't tell, Mrs. Kennedy. ”I hope they were all good things,” I say.

”Oh, they were,” she replies, her eyes bright. She's acting like we're meeting for lunch, not sitting in her kitchen late at night, her son's girlfriend cleaning up the cuts and bruises caused by her husband.

I play her game, pretend the same. ”I'm glad.”

She forces a smile. ”After what happened last semester with that girl... he was so depressed, so dark, and ever since he met you, it's like he sees the sun again. Feels the heat and the joy it brings. You make him happy, Lois.”

I find the cut on her lip, apply some ointment. Then I clear my throat, look down at her shaking hands. ”He makes me happy, too.”

I get up to grab us both gla.s.ses of water and hand her some aspirins from the first-aid kit. She holds them in her hands, somehow still smiling. ”Lance told me you're Brian Sanders' daughter?”

After a nod, I ask, ”How does Mr. Kennedy know my dad?”

”He doesn't know your dad so much as he knows Tom Preston.”

”Oh?”

”They've got history, so to speak.”

I stare at her, wanting more.

She downs the aspirin with her water, then says, ”A while back they worked together on a ma.s.sive development project.” She fixes the loose strands of hair across her brow. ”Lance had investors come through from all across the country, and there was a big meeting. Tom and my husband were supposed to head the meeting. Tom showed up... inebriated, and blew the deal.”

”He was drunk?” I whisper.

She nods. ”He'd just lost his wife...”

”Oh.”

”Are you close with the Prestons?” she asks, patting the swelling formed under her eye.

I don't respond. Instead, I lower my voice, lean in closer. ”Mrs. Kennedy... my dad's girlfriend is a police officer and-”

The kitchen door opens and we pull apart, our eyes snapping to the sound. Cooper stands just inside, his gaze s.h.i.+fting between his mother and me. ”I was looking for you,” he tells me, his jaw tense.

”I was thirsty,” I respond.

He steps toward us, his hand out for me, but his words for his mom. ”You okay?”

She nods, smiles at him like mothers are supposed to smile at their children. ”I'm fine. Had a little too much to drink and well, you know the rest.”

Cooper visibly swallows, plays her game, too. He takes my hand, helps me off the stool. Then he reaches out, his hand as shaky as hers as he cups her cheek, kisses her forehead like he does with me. ”I love you, Ma.”

She chokes on a sob, grasping his wrist. ”I love you, too, son.”

We go back to his room, back to his bed, where he holds me tight, his body curled into a ball as he lays his head on my shoulder.

”Lois?”

”Yeah?”

I expect him to tell me to ignore what I saw downstairs, to swear to secrecy, to apologize that I had to see it at all. But he looks up at me, his gaze searching mine. He exhales, his breath warm against my lips. ”I'm falling so deeply in love with you.”

My mouth opens, but he doesn't let me speak. Instead, his mouth covers mine, urgent and needy. Then he s.h.i.+fts until he's on top of me, his knees parting mine.

We don't make love.

He f.u.c.ks me.

Hard and fast.

Because he's hurting.

And I'm hurting for him.

So I let him.

Because he's not the only one falling deep, deep, deeply in love.

Chapter Fifteen.

LUCAS.

”Laney's here!”

I startle awake. Rub my eyes. Metaphorically open my ears to see if I'd been dreaming.

”Laney's here! Laney's here! Laney's here!”

Nope.

Not a dream.

I throw the covers off me, get out of bed. I skipped my run this morning; my motivation lost somewhere amidst the chaos of my life. I go to the bathroom, pour half a tube of toothpaste in my mouth, then proceed to cough and splutter as I attempt to swallow it while I slip on some clothes and shoes. I open the apartment door just as Laney steps out of a black truck I'd never seen before. ”Hey, rock star!” she shouts to Lachlan, currently flying down the porch steps to get to her.

I'm a lot calmer than he was when I descend from the apartment stairs and walk over to her.

”Hey, Lucas,” she says.

I point to the truck. ”Did you get a car?”

She shakes her head, her smile as warm as the morning sun. ”It's Cooper's gardener's.”